“No, no. No one sent me out here,” I lied. “I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
A bit of her anger drained from her eyes. “Oh.” Her shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry.”
With my hands linked behind my back, I approached. “No need to be sorry. You’re upset and justly so.”
She appeared shocked by my words but didn’t reply. We stood there quietly for several seconds before I broke the silence. “Do you understand your brothers believe they’re doin’ what’s best for you, right?”
“It’s not, though!” she protested in a fierce tone that only descendants of the Lacroix name held.
“I love my aunt,” she confessed quietly.
“Absolutely. No one said you didn’t.”
“But New York City? It’s far too big.” Nat frowned, deep in thought. “And stinks!” she said as an afterthought.
“One could argue that Charleston doesn’t smell all that pleasant when Low Tide rolls in.”
Nat waved my words away. “No, that’s a welcomin’ scent. New York City is bad, and I would never enjoy myself there.”
Her justifications were unsound. It was almost as though she was blindly grasping for any reason she could that would direct me away from the truth.
My head tilted to the side. “What is the real truth?”
She blinked those big eyes at me. “I just told you.”
“Nat,” I persisted.
As she turned away, her nostrils flared. Rapidly she blinked, as though she was fighting back tears, and with her thoughts before, she abruptly looked back at me. “The train will take the same route,” she let slip.
“Same route?” I frowned, trying to process her words. “Same route as—” At once, I stopped speaking. Ever so slightly, my eyes widened.
“I don’t want to see where they died,” she confessed, her voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear her. “And I never want to be away from what family I have left.”
I stood there silently for several minutes, unable to find the correct words. I couldn’t say I understood Nat’s pain. Not even a tenth of it because she lost so much. I knew her parents were loving and doted upon her. And Nat had a close relationship to Julian as well. He was remarkably similar to Livingston.
I don’t have that type of relationship with my parents. I knew my mother loved me, but not enough to protect me. And I knew my father loved the idea of a son, and what the son could give. Just not the person behind the title, Son.
Nat had a beautiful life, and it was cruelly taken away. I didn’t know what to say to make everything better. So I said nothing.
“Even if I’m old enough, I won’t leave Belgrave,” Nat said, her voice resolute and firm as though she had given this great thought and made up her mind.
Tilting my head to the side, I carefully regarded her. “Never?”
Nat shook her head. “Never. It’s my home.”
She said the word home as though it was sacred. A holy place that was part of her and nothing else would ever compare.
“Of course, it’s your home, but it will be here waitin’ for you.”
Once again, Nat shook her head, and a faint frown appeared between her brows. “Everythin’ I have is here.”
“I understand. But don’t clip your own wings.”
Nat leaned back ever so slightly. “What?”
“Death makes everythin’ hard, right?”
Tentatively, she nodded, cautiously waiting to hear what I had to say next.
“This agony is temporary. And you don’t know when you’re meant to fly, or where, but you will. All right, Birdie?”
Her hazel eyes widened as she slowly nodded. I believed she understood what I was saying, but she wore that expression around me quite often when I spoke to her. It was the infatuation of hers that prevented her from listening.
Finally, she shook her head, almost as though she was hearing my words for the first time. “Birdie?”
“Yes, Birdie. That shall be my nickname for you, so you will remember there’s always somethin’ better out there.”
For quite some time, she thought over my words before she nodded and looked up at me. “A colorful bird?”
I couldn’t help but smirk. “Absolutely.”
“Not a toucan,” she stated firmly.
“I agree. Perhaps the Lady Gouldian finch? It’s a colorful bird from Australia.”
Her eyes were wide. “And they’re pretty birds?”
“Yes, very pretty.”
“Then Lady Gouldian it is.”
“Excellent.” I held my hand out and waited for her to accept. I would shake any man’s hand after coming to an agreement and although she was a young girl, I wanted her to know my words weren’t said in jest.
She reached out and slipped her hand into mine. It was pale and small, so small clasped in mine. The juxtaposition was jarring, almost bordering on intimidating. Which was preposterous. I was a grown man. Nat was a child. But right then, she seemed so breakable, and if she was left in my care long enough, she was certain to break.
But Nat’s trust was palpable, and I vowed to myself that I would take care of what was left of her heart and childhood. Her brothers would always care for her. But I would gladly be one more person to shield her. I have always felt a connection with Nat. She was an old soul like me. And whether the circumstances of life had made her that way, I wasn’t certain. But that’s what always bonded the two of us. This small, slip of a child seemed to understand me better than most adults. Yet Nat was wiser beyond her years, kinder than most people deserved, and it seemed to me, that even as a little girl, she had managed to become the cornerstone for the surviving Lacroix siblings.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Of course.” I let go of her hand. “I should be gettin’ back inside. I have some work to do.” I stood, and with my hands on my hips, I peered at Nat’s small frame. “You’ll be all right?”
She nodded, and even though a sadness remained in her eyes, the corner of her mouth lifted. I knew Nat would be okay. She would be a Lady Gouldian in the end.
I walked back to the house, and when I opened the front door, Étienne and Livingston were waiting for me in the foyer.
“Did you talk to her?” Étienne asked. Beside him, Livingston nodded.
They resembled two young boys who were waiting for approval from a strict parent and not their little sister who was eleven years younger than them.
“No. I pushed her on the swing, and then she pushed me. Afterward, we played a rivetin’ game of hopscotch.” Before I could finish my sentence, Livingston shoved my shoulder. Served them right for sending me out to speak to their sister. “Yes, I spoke with her.”
“And?” Livingston persisted. “My God, Asa. Tell us!”
“She wants to stay here with the both of you at Belgrave. She doesn’t want to leave her home.”
The two of them continued to stare at me expectantly, as though I had more to say, and I did. But I didn’t want to say my words wrong. I told Nat I would speak to Étienne and Livingston about staying here and I meant that.
“Did you explain to her our intent?” Étienne asked.